First Impressions
by kissmelikeapirate
Summary: Co-Star AU. Emma Swan is the star of the hottest show on TV, The Analyser. She's professional, polished, poised... But there is something about that damn Killian Jones that gets right under her skin. (Title shamelessly borrowed from Jane Austen)


Tired and aching after another long night shooting on the cold New York streets, Emma Swan was ready for a hot bath and a warm bed. Friday night shooting always wiped her out. It was always the same when a script required long scenes at night outdoors. But she couldn't complain, she loved her job. _The Analyser_ was the number one rated show on Wednesday nights and even now in its fourth season it showed no signs of stopping.

Wearily, she locked her door and kicked off her flats. She was just about to head for the bathroom when the ping of an incoming message made her take out her phone. She smiled in anticipation when she saw the sender - it was from Jerome, the program's creator and head writer - the contents: the script for the next episode.

Undressing and filing the tub was expedited by her excitement to see what was going to happen. Her character, Delilah St Clair, was currently tracking down the kidnappers of a rich billionaire's son and even she didn't know how this plot arc was going to turn out.

She sank into the tub with a deep sigh and pulled up the script on her iPad.

It was an action packed episode from the start. Car chases, shoot outs…

"What the fuck?" she screeched as she reached the final act. "No way!"

She was going to have to kiss Killian Jones.

/

He'd been cocky and arrogant from the first moment he swaggered onto set last season. A guest star for a few episodes, his character was to be somewhat of a nemesis to Delilah - James Hook, genius computer analyst, reckless, womanizer.

From the start, it had been a working relationship fraught with conflict. He had taken her parking spot in the company lot (it's not marked reserved, _darling_ ), immediately working on charming the rest of the cast with his damn British accent and stupid innuendo (which she loathed, of course). He'd tried to worm his way into her good books those first few weeks, being overly nice and offering to get her lunch from craft services every day - but she saw through that act straight way.

Yeah he was handsome, with cliched god looks and ridiculously blue eyes. Sure he was popular with everyone (cast _and_ crew). And damn he wore nice cologne…

But Emma Swan new his type, she'd been in the business long enough, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he changed and showed his true colours.

And then, _then_ he'd gone and been made a regular.

To be fair, the audience loved him. Every time he was on screen the show's twitter account would explode with messages. Fawning women would wait outside the gates of the studio almost every day desperate for a glimpse of the object of their affections. And of course, the media just loved him.

So Emma had huffed and pouted when he was promoted by Jerome, and then whined and complained even more when it was decided that the character should have a change of heart and start working for the 'good guys' - Emma's team of investigators who worked just outside the law.

Killian, predictably, had tried to use his charm to win her over. The pink roses in her trailer weren't so bad, but his insistence on leaving cups of her favorite cocoa with cinnamon by her chair was bordering on stalkerish. And then there was the PaleyFest panel where he had purposefully embarrassed her by responding to a question about his favorite person to work with - 'Why, Ms. Emma Swan, of course, our beautiful and talented lead.'

Talk about sucking up.

But she had resisted all attempts by him to build some kind of relationship. She'd had him worked out the moment she met him. He was trouble. And that was the last thing she needed.

/

"I'm sorry Emma, but there's nothing I can do."

Emma scowled over her omelette. Breakfast was the only chance she had to Skype Jerome and share her displeasure with the script.

"Jerome - you can't seriously be telling me that you think a romance between Delilah and Hook is a good idea, they practically hate each other!"

"It's a _great_ idea Emma! The chemistry between you two is off the charts - do you know how much attention you guys get online? The viewers _love_ you together."

"And since when did you let viewers tell you what to write?"

Jerome grinned, "I don't. To be honest, this is something I was planning for a while. It's perfect - reformed scoundrel and the uptight, serious profiler, this plot is going to be a goldmine. It's really going to get people talking, create some buzz in time for sweeps."

"So there's no talking you out of it?"

Fixing her with a stare, he simply replied, "Trust me."

And with that, Jerome ended the call.

Well she didn't trust him. In fact, she was worried. Her character didn't have 'love' interests. They'd tried that with a character called Neal in season one, only to have him turn on her and almost get her killed in the season finale. Since then, Delilah had been single and happy. Just like she was.

Emma _liked_ the fact that she was playing an independent, strong woman who was successful and relied on no one.

Indeed, she herself understood the importance of focus in her job. Working hard on her character, spending hours in the gym to keep in shape. She didn't socialize with the other actors very much. She liked to keep work and her private life separate. Just like Delilah St Clair.

/

"Swan?" The corresponding knock at the door made her start. She'd been staring at her script, trying to memorize her lines.

"Jones," she sighed, wondering what he was bothering her with now.

"I was passing by and thought I would come and see how the preparation was going." He stood in the doorway, flashing her that stupid megawatt smile that she hated.

"Preparation?" she asked, frowning in confusion as she set her script aside.

He took a few steps forward, his signature swagger evident, his eyebrows raising as he replied, "For the big scene, lass. I know it may be intimidating, but I promise, I don't bite."

Emma rolled her eyes, wishing she had something nearby to throw at him other than a cup of cocoa. "Well I do, so watch out."

"Ooh, feisty today aren't we. Well, if you do want to rehearse, you know where I am…" he replied, nodding in the direction of his trailer (annoyingly right next to hers). He fan his fingers though his annoyingly good hair (seriously, so unfair) as he ran a suggestive tongue along his lips.

Emma narrowed her eyes, "I think I'll manage. Now don't you have some groupies to go hang out with, or at least someone else to annoy?"

Smirking, he winked and left.

God, he was so frustrating.

/

Another Friday night 'Fraturday' shoot. It was the 7th and final day of filming for the midseason finale. (And the episode of the kiss…)

Standing on a street corner in midtown, still shivering despite the thick down jacket around her, Emma waited for the scene to be set up.

James Hook had just saved Delilah from a bullet, pushing her out of the way just in time for it to graze his arm. The next scene to shoot was her thanking him. And the _kiss._

She was shaking a little, but that was from the cold. It wasn't like she was worried. She was professional, she'd done this many, many times-

"Ms. Swan, they're ready for you."

The young assistant smiled brightly (too bright for 1am) and ushered her in the direction of the set. Killian was already there, his arm bandaged to show where the 'bullet' had grazed it, a scratch on his cheek, his hair all mussed up-

 _Shit,_ he looked good.

Swallowing hard, Emma fixed her lips in a thin smile.

"Jones," she nodded.

He turned on a bright grin as she approached, "Swan, ready? All rested up?"

She gave him a grim smile. "Just looking forward to wrapping and getting home," she grumbled as the assistant removed her coat.

Killian took a step closer to her, and lowered his voice, "Don't be nervous, love. Remember what they say in acting school, just imagine you're kissing someone you actually like."

"Is that what you do?" she quipped, tucking her hands under her armpits to keep some body heat.

"Usually, but I doubt that will be a problem tonight, love."

"Wha-" she was just about to finish when the director called everyone to their places and the run through of the scene began.

/

It had been a simple enough rehearsal, the dialogue was brief so it was mostly for blocking purposes. They hadn't had to kiss, 'save it for the camera's' Mike the director had said. Now she waited just out of shot for the call.

Across the street, Killian smiled, raising his brows at her and then tapping his lips.

God, he was insufferable.

"Action!"

She walked onto the scene, her heels clipping on the asphalt. Killian stood, phone at his ear before tucking it in his pocket as she approached.

"Well, St Clair, how are the bruises?"

"I'll survive," she nodded, "How's the arm?"

"Nothing but a flesh wound." He took a step closer just as the wind picked up and the scent of his cologne hit her full force. It was very inviting.

She took a breath and composed herself. "Look, I just wanted to thank you. For pushing me out of the way."

"And taking a bullet for you…"

"Please, flesh wound, you already said."

Killian grinned. "Aye love, so I did. But really, is that all your life is worth to you?" He raised his brows in a way that was a bit too Killian and not quite Hook.

"I already said thank you."

He took another step until there were mere inches between them, running his tongue along his lip in a way that was all to familiar, pursing his mouth seductively.

"Please, you couldn't handle it," she recited, feeling her heart rate spike in anticipation.

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it?"

The script then required her to stare in his eyes for a few seconds. That was all too easy, quickly losing herself in their unfair blue as her breathing hitched and she reached for the collar of his shirt-

Their lips met and she went for it.

Delilah was supposed to be the aggressor here. It was implied in the script that she had long held feelings for Hook, so she needed to play this moment perfectly.

Their kiss was mingled with heavy breaths and grasping fingers. They hand't exactly discussed how they should do this - beyond her order to 'suck on a mint' - but it didn't seem to matter. Her fingers slid into his hair, he cupped her face with his palm, their bodies flush against one another-

 _Oh God_ , she was enjoying it. She liked it! Kissing him was… easy. Exhilarating. Exciting. Everything she had believed it _wouldn't_ be.

"Cut!"

The director's call pulled her out of the moment and she stumbled backwards, practically pushing him away. He was breathing heavily too, but she couldn't look him in the eye, preferring to pretend to focus on fixing her hair (where his hands had been just seconds before).

"Reset!"

At the next command, she began walking back to her starting point, bringing her breathing under control, ignoring Killian's brief cry of 'Swan'.

/

Five takes.

 _Five goddamn takes._

Each one harder than the next. Every kiss becoming more intoxicating as they learned each other's mouths and bodies.

She was normally really good at this. Always the professional. Never one to let reality and fiction blur…

 _Goddamn it_ , she thought as she stalked back to her trailer.

Slamming the door behind her, she started making a cup of cocoa. That always calmed her down.

She was just debating the merits of begging Jerome to kill off Killian's character when there was a knock at her door.

"Swan?"

Damn, what the hell was he doing here?

She stomped over, yanking open the door to see a sweeping looking Jones standing at the bottom of the steps.

"Can I come in?"

"Is it important?" she snapped.

"Aye," he nodded, his expression so annoyingly earnest she simply turned on her heel and headed back inside.

"I'll take that as a yes," he called behind her.

Stirring her cocoa, she heard him enter and stand behind her. She took a few sips, calming herself. _It's just Jones, same old annoying, stupid Jones._

She turned and he was smiling shyly (yes _shyly)._ Immediately she put up her defences and adopted a nonchalant pose. "Yes?" she snipped.

"Swan - _Emma_ \- I think we need to talk."

"Oh, do we?"

He nodded, "Yes, about that kiss-"

Emma froze, cup midway to her mouth.

"That was more than acting."

She scoffed, "Pleasee-"

"Emma-"

He was back on her lips in a heartbeat, his hands at her waist, kissing her like his life depended on it. The cup dropped to the floor, landing with a dull thud as the contents slid over the carpet. Like before but _more_ , more passion, more feeling more real.

He stopped, pressing his forehead against her. "That wasn't acting, love."

Her eyelashes fluttered as she tried to collect herself.

"I've wanted to do that for so bloody long."

"You have?" she asked in a whisper, her mind still trying to catch up with what was happening.

"Yes!" he cried, "Don't you know how hard I've been trying to get your attention? You always seem so bloody unapproachable."

Her mind swam, "But all the bravado, the banter-"

He pressed his lips against her once more, and this time she managed to smile.

"You seemed so aloof, it was the only way I could think of to get you to notice me."

Emma rolled her eyes, "Oh I noticed you alright-" and this time she kissed him, bundled her fists in his hair, rolled her hips against his-

"So you don't hate me?" he asked,

"Now let's not be to hasty-" she laughed.

Another kiss, this time leading to her pressed up against the wall, leaving them both breathless and panting, he caged her in with his arms, drawing his tongue along her neck, nibbling on her jaw.

"Come on, you have to at least kind of like me…"

She raised a brow, feeling giddy and breathless and more than a little confused.

Emma Swan wasn't really sure just yet how she felt about Killian Jones, but she decided right then she was willing and ready to find out.

"We'll see," see she teased, chasing his lips for another kiss, "I barely know you-"

"Well we'll just have to change that then."

/

A Saturday date, turned into a Sunday in bed and a shared ride to the set on Monday.

/

They tried to keep it quiet. But some kid posted a picture of them on Twitter a couple of weeks later and it was all over the set the next day.

/

The episode was the highest rated one in two seasons.

Killian, of course, tried to take all the credit.

Emma silenced him with a kiss.

And then some.

 **A/N - If you like this a review is super appreciated!**


End file.
